JRD, Jawaharlal and Gandhi stepped into Yezdani for brun-pav, maska and chai. JRD was staying at Bombay House, Gandhi at Mani Bhuvan and Nehru at Jinnah House. They had not met for a while. In stilled surprise, the Parsi gentleman-owner stood up at the counter, wished a soft Good morning. They returned the wish. He wiped a table and bench clean as the three slid on to the bench and waited for orders. JRD, with a smile wider than his face: Three plates of brun maska and chai, please. No hurry, Sir. The Parsi owner couldn't get over the early morning gift as the RBI Towers and Bombay House and Horniman Circle park awaited gentlemen and ladies. An aged Muslim, fresh from the kitchen, served the oven warm order on florally designed plastic plates as the trio stood up in grace. JRD tipped the aged Muslim before the trio took delicious bites. 'You have it every day?' asked Gandhi and JRD nodded and added with boiled eggs. 'You should take eggs to be strongly old,' remarked Nehru to Gandhi and the Old Man grinned peace. The chewing quiet was broken by Gandhi: 'Last week had breakfast and lunch with Dr. Manmohan Singh at his home. His home reminded me of Sabarmati Ashram. For breakfast, the decent Sardar aired a low key Gurbani as wife Gursharan Kaur came up with aloo parathas and tea. Made by my wife, said Sardar; he peeled the potatos and is better at it than in Economics, added Kaur.' Nehru butted: 'You would have discussed Guru Nanak.' Gandhi nodded assent, made that way. 'Sardar knows Guru Granth by heart,' Gandhi said appreciatively. 'Like you know Gita,' needled Nehru as JRD lighted a Wills Gold Flake. Nehru a Camel. And then Gandhi and Singh dwelt on Indian economy. 'Sardar talked of GDP, GVA, demonetisation ... could not make any sense and the Sardar is too much into it when dal-kichidi came via Kaur and I forgot all about growth,' Gandhi explained. A fine, laughing lunch, it was. Sardar went over times when mother made parathas for him. They were made in clay fire and vessels. Dal-kichdi tasted of Ba. Being a busy man, Sardar had to leave for Gujarat to campaign and we broke up. As I stepped out, Sardar asked whether Sonia and Rahul had given me and Jawahar tickets for Gujarat. No, me said. We are khota sikkas, dont know. Sardar hugged and presented me with a signed copy of Political Violence in Ancient India by his daughter, Upinder Singh. They ordered a second round of brun pavs with Coke. Nehru said he had read the book and it is history and not myths you spread of ancient India, Bapu. JRD coughed as piece of pav got throat stuck; you read every book, Jawahar. Yes, like you make and count every rupee printed by RBI, came back Nehru. Did you meet Ratan, Nehru inquired. He has no time shutting down Nano, returned JRD and added wryly: We three are the same. Unwanted scrap of Underwood typewriters. Breathing in a pinch of snuff, (a new habit of Gandhi), Gandhi wiped his nose with a towel. The Parsi owner refused to bill as they stood up for a walk to Jehangir Art Gallery to gaze at Hussain paintings. Gandhi is for the Mother Teresa paintings of Hussain, Nehru his horses and JRD the Madhuri Dixit pics. A crowd was rampaging the show, a stone hit Gandhi and a brick missed Nehru. JRD rushed them to Bombay House, closed the doors even as Gandhi insisted on facing the crowds. 'It is not 1946 or 1947; it is 2017 of a Mohammed being killed,' warned JRD.
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Gandhi, Nehru and JRD
JRD, Jawaharlal and Gandhi stepped into Yezdani for brun-pav, maska and chai. JRD was staying at Bombay House, Gandhi at Mani Bhuvan and Nehru at Jinnah House. They had not met for a while. In stilled surprise, the Parsi gentleman-owner stood up at the counter, wished a soft Good morning. They returned the wish. He wiped a table and bench clean as the three slid on to the bench and waited for orders. JRD, with a smile wider than his face: Three plates of brun maska and chai, please. No hurry, Sir. The Parsi owner couldn't get over the early morning gift as the RBI Towers and Bombay House and Horniman Circle park awaited gentlemen and ladies. An aged Muslim, fresh from the kitchen, served the oven warm order on florally designed plastic plates as the trio stood up in grace. JRD tipped the aged Muslim before the trio took delicious bites. 'You have it every day?' asked Gandhi and JRD nodded and added with boiled eggs. 'You should take eggs to be strongly old,' remarked Nehru to Gandhi and the Old Man grinned peace. The chewing quiet was broken by Gandhi: 'Last week had breakfast and lunch with Dr. Manmohan Singh at his home. His home reminded me of Sabarmati Ashram. For breakfast, the decent Sardar aired a low key Gurbani as wife Gursharan Kaur came up with aloo parathas and tea. Made by my wife, said Sardar; he peeled the potatos and is better at it than in Economics, added Kaur.' Nehru butted: 'You would have discussed Guru Nanak.' Gandhi nodded assent, made that way. 'Sardar knows Guru Granth by heart,' Gandhi said appreciatively. 'Like you know Gita,' needled Nehru as JRD lighted a Wills Gold Flake. Nehru a Camel. And then Gandhi and Singh dwelt on Indian economy. 'Sardar talked of GDP, GVA, demonetisation ... could not make any sense and the Sardar is too much into it when dal-kichidi came via Kaur and I forgot all about growth,' Gandhi explained. A fine, laughing lunch, it was. Sardar went over times when mother made parathas for him. They were made in clay fire and vessels. Dal-kichdi tasted of Ba. Being a busy man, Sardar had to leave for Gujarat to campaign and we broke up. As I stepped out, Sardar asked whether Sonia and Rahul had given me and Jawahar tickets for Gujarat. No, me said. We are khota sikkas, dont know. Sardar hugged and presented me with a signed copy of Political Violence in Ancient India by his daughter, Upinder Singh. They ordered a second round of brun pavs with Coke. Nehru said he had read the book and it is history and not myths you spread of ancient India, Bapu. JRD coughed as piece of pav got throat stuck; you read every book, Jawahar. Yes, like you make and count every rupee printed by RBI, came back Nehru. Did you meet Ratan, Nehru inquired. He has no time shutting down Nano, returned JRD and added wryly: We three are the same. Unwanted scrap of Underwood typewriters. Breathing in a pinch of snuff, (a new habit of Gandhi), Gandhi wiped his nose with a towel. The Parsi owner refused to bill as they stood up for a walk to Jehangir Art Gallery to gaze at Hussain paintings. Gandhi is for the Mother Teresa paintings of Hussain, Nehru his horses and JRD the Madhuri Dixit pics. A crowd was rampaging the show, a stone hit Gandhi and a brick missed Nehru. JRD rushed them to Bombay House, closed the doors even as Gandhi insisted on facing the crowds. 'It is not 1946 or 1947; it is 2017 of a Mohammed being killed,' warned JRD.
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